Letters from Cinna
by OnAMission
Summary: Cinna had died when Katniss saw him being taken away before entering the Quarter Quell. Years later, some letters resurface. Written the night before his death.
1. Katniss

A letter came in the mail today. For me. Mail never comes for me.

The thick gray envelope indicated that it was only covering the message that needed to be protected on the inside. I walk back into the house slowly and shift through the two other letters in regular white envelopes. Both for Peeta.

Our home in the Victors Village is keeping the warm air trapped inside, reminding me that Autumn has come and gone, and that Winter is here. Peeta should be home in a few minutes, actually.

I jog up the stairs, with the gray envelope in my hands. It's tempting me to open it, right here, right now. Somehow, I make my curiosity subside and wait until I'm sitting on the edge of the bed to open it. There's no return address.

Inside, there's a peach colored envelope. When I see the words on the front, my heart stops beating. I know that it did. Where could this have come from?

The words address me. Girl on Fire is written in beautiful black script. And they're screaming at me to rip open the letter.

I stop when I've opened the two pages. The only questions that come to my mind are, how? And why?

* * *

><p><em>Katniss,<em>

_Girl on Fire, you're flames are not ones that will die out anytime soon. From all I've seen, even without anyone knowing anything, they're growing stronger and stronger everyday._

_Tomorrow, you'll be heading into the arena again, but I'm afraid that you won't be coming out as victor. I know you won't be coming out as victor._

_For many reasons, my dear._

_Mostly because -if I didn't know any better than I do now- you have already promised that Peeta will be the person coming out at the end. You haven't told me this, of course. But I know. I've always known._

_You're something strange, and rare. You remind me of myself, when I was younger. Although, I knew how to make a dinner jacket in ten minutes, and you know how to skin a squirrel in three._

_You've been different the past few days. I want to ask why, but I think I already know the answer. Things are changing, aren't they? Things that you can't or don't know how to control. The Quarter Quell has not helped in this matter has it?_

_I'm asking a lot of questions that I won't be hearing the answer to, I'm afraid. But I'll ask them, nonetheless, because I know that you need to find the answers._

_Bigger questions are surfacing now in my mind, it seems. Why did you trust me so much? Sometimes, I noticed, you trusted me more than Peeta. At least in the first Games. You two are inseparable now. That's a big change from the last I saw you._

_Remember? I came for the wedding dress shoot. And didn't even get to talk to you for more than five minutes. But I could tell. You try so very hard to hide, don't you love? It doesn't matter how much you hide, I'll always be able to read you like a book._

_Something is eating you up. Slowly, and from the inside. I hate to think that it's guilt, or that you just can't take the emotional stress anymore, but I know that that's what it is. You mustn't get downhearted. You think everything is always your fault. It's not._

_More questions. So many more. I suppose it's my Capitol side taking over my mind for the moment, but I can't help but wonder how you felt when Peeta announced that you were pregnant. You're face was very revealing. Blushing, even. If I hadn't known better, I would've believed it just like the rest of the country._

_I sound like your Effie, don't I?_

_No matter. If it were true, you would be an excellent mother, if you don't mind my saying so._

_I've known you for almost a year now, Katniss. I remember the first time I met you so clearly. I'll never forget it. You've trusted me for the past year to help you on television, through interviews, with your hobby. That hobby that I don't think you even care for. I was very happy to help, nonetheless. And you inspired so many dresses, and so many outfits._

_I think I've gotten off track. Oh, yes, you're not going to be winning the Quarter Quell._

_Neither will Peeta. I would tell you more, but I can't. I'm just going to trust that you'll see this letter later, or I'll tell you in person. The former is more probable._

_I hate to bring this up, but I feel that I must tell you. But first, I have to start with a question. One that may be the most difficult for you to answer, love. Peeta, or Gale? Haymitch has been kind enough to explain things to me, because he thought that I might be able to help. I'm afraid that I haven't brought it up, though._

_But the question still remains: Peeta or Gale? I don't know Gale, but he seems like a very nice boy. There is more there with Peeta, at least, what I see. Every kiss you gave the boy in that cave, I knew were felt risky to you. But there was one, and I might be a sap from the Capitol for saying it, but the one small kiss right after you came back with his medicine from the feast. There was something there._

_I'm not trying to sway you're decision in any way. I don't even know if you have to make a decision anymore._

_Not only are you the Girl on Fire. Peeta is my Boy on Fire. You both captured the crowd that night that you entered in the chariot. A team, an inseparable team that stole the hearts of the country. A boy and girl on fire, who didn't want to leave the arena without the other. You can't have one without the other. You could try, but it wouldn't be right, would it?_

_So, although everyone believes that the night lock berries were meant as an attack against the Capitol and its leaders, I know that it was more than just that._

_Like I said before, you are extremely rare. You do things for more than one reason. Not only did the berries mean that you didn't like the Capitol, but they were a token. Like you're MockingJay pin. The berries show that you care about a boy who would've given anything to keep you safe._

_And now, on the last night of your freedom from the Games, I write this letter. It may have gotten slightly off subject, but that's me. I pour myself into my work, that way I hurt no one but myself. And I'm afraid that I may pay for that soon._

_Whatever happens to you my dear, always remember that I'm with you. Can you do me a favor? If you ever do get married, wear something that makes you think of me. It'll be like I'm there with you. I knew there wouldn't be a wedding in the Capitol, but I couldn't help but wish that there could've been. I would have liked to have seen that. How would've Mrs. Katniss Mellark held up? Wonderfully, I'm sure._

_My beautiful Girl on Fire. Whatever shall they do with you?_

_I'm still betting on you, love._

_Cinna_

* * *

><p>Breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe.<p>

In and out. In and out. Count to ten. Don't focus on the blurriness of your vision. Or the salt water that is running into your mouth after your vision clears the tiniest bit.

No, you didn't hear the front door close. Or Peeta calling up the stairs. The only thing that you can see is the peach paper in front of you.

**Can you do me a favor?**

Cinna was with me on my wedding day. I wore a wedding dress that had been found in President Snow's mansion. Made by Cinna; Exclusively for me.

Words pop out from the page, highlighting themselves for me.

**Why did you trust me so much?**

Because you were the only one who didn't tell me that I was going to be fine; except at my interview. And even then, I could look to you to keep me from passing out. You didn't try to hinder me. You only helped me.

**Things are changing aren't they?**

Yes. More than you know. Now more than ever. Capitol's gone. Original Panem is pretty much non-existent.

**Peeta or Gale?**

If I had read this letter after he'd written it, I wouldn't have had an answer to that. Now I do. I think he knew the answer all along.

**How would've Mrs. Katniss Mellark held up?**

She's holding tightly to the reality that she sees around her everyday.

**Whatever shall they do with you?**

Too much. But now, I don't have to think about it. So I don't. I dwell on the good things. Like Peeta, who sees me crying, but isn't asking why. He just hugs me, while I cry. I know I'm soaking his shirt, but he doesn't seem to care.

"You okay?" He whispers.

"Yeah," I say back, "I just got a letter. That's all."

"Was it bad?"

"No," I say, sniffing, "It was a very nice surprise."

* * *

><p>I'm thinking of doing one where Cinna had also written Peeta a letter. Tell me what you think, this is my first Hunger Games fanfic. :D Reviews are loved!<p> 


	2. Peeta

"You got a package in the mail today, Peeta."

"Really? Where is it?"

I see Katniss point to the dining room table, where a small card-board box sits. Examining it carefully before opening it, I notice that it's got District 13's post mark on it.

But there's no return address.

I peel the tape off and flip open the top to find a letter that says "Peeta" laying on a sheet of tissue paper.

That hand-writing looks oddly familiar. Where have I seen it before?

When I get the lone sheet of paper out of the peach envelope I skip to the name at the end before reading anything else.

Deep breaths Peeta. Breathe.

I sit in the chair at the head of the table and start to read, barely seeing through my watery eyes.

* * *

><p><em>Peeta,<em>

_I suppose that I should tell you that you'll be coming out of the Games, more than likely, alive._

_But truthfully, now that I think of it, I might be cutting too quickly to the chase._

_So, I'll start over._

_It's been a pleasure getting to know you Peeta. You've got something remarkable that no one else that I know has. You can tear the emotions of an audience to pieces with a sentence. With ease. And it never ceases to amaze me._

_How? How in the world do you come up with these magnificent plans all on your own? Of course, there is something driving those plans, but I'll get to her soon enough. I am genuinely curious. Do they pop into your mind at random moments, or do you ruminate on them?_

_Whatever the case, you've got a brilliant mind. And wonderful ideas._

_I don't believe that there is a way that I will ever know the answer, but I still need to put the question out there; and, yes, it's another how question. How did you think to inter work this last plan so intricately? You love your bride, but she's not only your bride, she's pregnant as well. The web of stories weaves itself into a pattern that all of Panem recognizes._

_You've thought this out. What tribute would want to be known as the one who killed the pregnant girl? Or the father? Especially when the mother and father are the winners of the previous Games, where through their cunning, devious minds, made it out together. The first pair to win the Hunger Games._

_The country adores you. And now, I guess you'll just say that Katniss had a miscarriage. Highly likely to happen with all of the stress and the physical trauma of the Games. You could never let her die and leave the Games could you? No, I have a feeling that if she died, you'd find a way to as well. Even though I wish that weren't the case._

_I haven't gotten to know you as well as I have Katniss, but you are a fine young man, all the same._

_It's coming to the point where I have nothing to say. There are so many things that I would love to tell you, yet I know that I can't. And you'll be finding out about them soon enough anyway._

_The Games are a deep, dark, troubling place. They're full of death and suspense, and waiting. Tensions run high, and people go crazy with anticipation. But you're the player, aren't you? So, for you, it's a different kind of game. Stay alive: or be crazy enough to make sure someone you love does._

_Boy on Fire, we all have our weaknesses. Don't let the Games be yours._

_What If I told you that you and Katniss would both make it out again? Would you believe me?_

_Food for thought, my boy._

_This letter may seem jumbled up and out of order. I cannot seem to keep my mind on one subject now for very long. I'm skipping everywhere, and I hope you'll forgive me for that._

_Portia sends her love, as do I. We'll both miss you and Katniss. Please, just remember us._

_There is one last thing that I need to tell you._

_She loves you. I know she does. You'll just have to give her some time to sort it out._

_Best of luck, my Boy on Fire._

_Cinna_

* * *

><p>I have to close my eyes and take a steady breath before facing the other little slip of paper in the envelope.<p>

It's a small note.

_For the future. I hope you and Katniss get to use it._

Whatever he's talking about is underneath that sheet of tissue paper. So I stand, and tear off the sheet slowly. And then what I see is so unbelievable that I have to blink a few times before I truly see it.

I lift it up and out of the box, holding it in the soft glow of light.

"What's that?" I hear Katniss ask, and her footsteps are getting closer.

I'm twenty-five years old. So is she.

I don't think I can wait anymore.

My gold wedding band shines in the light next to the article of clothing that I'm holding up.

"A gift. From an old friend," I say quietly.

When she sees it, she stops and stares. Surely she can see who made it just by looking at it. It's a deep blue, with strategically placed starbursts all over it. Making it look like it were engulfed in beautiful flame.

"Cinna." She states, swallowing.

I nod, "Yes. Cinna."

"Why?"

"He said that he hopes we get to use it."

She doesn't reply, so I lay the small piece of clothing meant for a baby down and walk toward her, my arms open.

She enters them without hesitation.

"Can you promise me something?" I whisper.

"What?" she says, voice muffled by my shirt.

"Promise me that we'll get to use that."

* * *

><p>Review my lovelies. I do love them so :D<p> 


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